Jedi and Drinking Contests

Luke wandered up to the bar, peeved. He had not had a good day, sitting in political meetings with stuffy diplomats, and he was scheduled to do it tomorrow. He needed a good stiff drink.

He sat down on a stool, next to a red-head that looked just as grumpy as he was. He had seen her there before, and they had talked a lot over drinks. Her name was Mara, and Luke thought she was pretty cute. He had never actually gotten her number, though, due to the fact she was also a Jedi, and would probably decapitate him if he asked. Just another horrible fact of his lame life. He caught her eye, and smiled. She gave a brief turn of her mouth, then turned as the bartender brought both of their drinks.

"Yo, have fun, man," the mixer called. "The last dude to try that kitchen mix fell of his chair. It was epic."

Luke glanced at the girl. She had ordered the exact same thing.

"Oh, I can handle it," the girl waved. "This has nothing on Bakuran drinking."

Luke scoffed playfully. "And Bakura has nothing on a Tatooine cantina," he shot back.

She gave him a look. "Oh, shut up. I could beat you in a drinking contest any day."

"Wanna put your money where your mouth is?" Luke challenged. She grinned mischievously, and slapped the counter. He followed suit, and the workers let out a cheer. One of them slammed the counter, and Luke downed his drink.

Luke was surprised. This mix was surprisingly strong. He downed the entire glass, then raised his eyebrows at her. She cocked an eyebrow, and they both grinned.

"Have fun," he mockingly. She stuck her tongue out, and the bartender offered up the next round.

After a few rounds, Luke was feeling kind of buzzed. He caught the girl's eye, and they both started snickering.

"Still going?" he asked teasingly. She grinned.

"Better than you, I bet. Not actually betting, though," she corrected, as Luke raised his brows. He grinned, and the next round came.

10 rounds later, they were both feeling very out of it. They had taken one of the glasses, and were currently playing Force tug-of-war, giggling like school kids. Suddenly, something gave out-- probably their concentration-- and the energy sent them both tumbling off their stool, the glass shattering on the counter. Luke and Mara didn't even attempt to get up, they just laid there, laughing their heads off.

"Yo, dudes, are you getting up?" the mixer asked.

"I... I... Don't think so..." Luke stammered out with a giggle. Mara burst out laughing.

"You... Sound like... Uh... That guy..." she fished, memory obviously lapsing. Luke just laughed hysterically.

"You... are so hot," Luke told her happily.

"So are you," Mara giggled, and Luke felt a surge of something that wasn't the beer. He burst out laughing. "I love blonds..." she carried on.

After laying like that for a while, the bartender finally got them up, shoved them in a cab, and they were dropped off at home. Just as Luke was about to flump into bed, he felt something in his breast pocket. He pulled it out, and found a lazily-scribbled number on it, plus a note that the drunken writer would be at the same bar a week later. Luke grinned crookedly, before hopping into bed with a laugh. He had finally gotten Mara's phone number, and he would probably get to miss the meeting tomorrow, due to intoxication. He was going to have the worst hangover ever, though...

~Fins~